Just A Crush?
by kayotic718
Summary: Kenny Jones, or Kentucky, has finally met his match. The thing is, they've known each other since they were kids. Salem Jones, or Massachusetts, is Kenny's best friend and love interest. But she, like all people, has her own issues. But the real question Kenny's asking himself is: Is this just another crush? Or something else entirely?
1. Chapter 1

Now, most would think that Salem Marie Liberty Jones was a sociopathic, antisocial, backstabbing bitch. But that really wasn't the case. The state of Massachusetts was just empty, raised roughly from all the wars, along with verbal and physical abuse from the other, older and smarter states.

That's why there are scars on her wrists. No one could see them though, which made her feel all the more invisible, lonely, and worthless. Even the people who said they understood her, loved her, wanted her to be successful, would never get what the demon was inside of her.

As a child, no one should feel like that this world would be better off with them dead, but as a state, as a country even, it was more than that. Now, most states in that type of human to piece of land limbo would just keep fighting, knowing the world couldn't keep going without them, even if the state was replaced with a new representative, same goes for countries. But Salem thought all she would ever be was a small, headstrong little colony who didn't know when to stop once they had crossed the line.

Then when the Revolution came around, it was proven how strong a little headstrong colony could be. Determination seemed to be laced in every word she spoke during that time, and she really had felt like she was needed for the first time in a very long while. Of course, like in all stories with a fallen heroine (because that's what she thought of herself as) the dark times came upon her that caused her to fall from grace yet again.

It was a struggle that she always seemed to be losing. She began slitting more, crying with each cut as she whispered:"This is for all who hurt me, look at where I am now," and it truly was a sad thing to hear, but no one ever listened. After all, who would listen to an invisible, stupid little girl with only harsh and burning things to say?

Now, at this time, new colonies were being added into the country of only thirteen colonies, now full-fledged states. Soon a fourteenth was added a quiet shy boy named David who seemed to represent the state of Vermont, and a fifteenth a loud, somewhat arrogant, and rude boy named Kenneth who was the state of Kentucky. Though, if you called him that, the child would beat you to a pulp in mere moments. So, Kenny is what he was called universally by the others.

These two seemed to be polar opposites, but unknown to them, they truly are the same in the end. States of a country, a minor fragment of this world of ours that we live in.


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed like the other fourteen states were surrounding him, on the day that the fates of Salem and Kenny had crossed -no- completely intertwined. The amount of state names, human names, along with all the other background noise of fighting (mainly of Seth, the state of Maine, and Jason, New Hampshire), or regular conversations.

As some of the smaller states, mainly the remaining thirteen colonies that started the United States, tried to get through, there was a large break in the crowd. Not at little Isabellia, Rhode Island, or at James, Virginia, it was at a short, auburn haired female that the group dissolved in what seemed like hidden hostility.

Though being older than a good load of the others, she stood at the stature of at the most a tall preschool child or a short kindergartener, though her real age as a state was many decades older.

Having the possession of a pallid hue of a skin tone, only having a few freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and on her cheekbones, caused a small suspicion rise in the young boy's mind that she was constantly of poor health. Her long, somewhat choppy auburn hair, went to her the center of her back, long bangs covering her eyes, only to be blown up from a small, short, stream of air from her lips. The girl placed her hands on her hips, leaning foreward slightly. From the vibe that Kenny was getting, it seemed like this girl was the ringleader; though she was so short and scrawny, the others were waiting for her **approval**, or the opposite.

_But, why is there anger in their eyes? Why is there no emotion in hers? Who is she anyway? And why the hell is she looking at me like that? _His thoughts seemed to be running in circles, a small pit of anxiety forming in the bottom of his stomach. She leaned up again, though she had never stood at a taller stature than the latter, this girl happened to be on a bit higher ground because of how strangely the floor was shaped. The red-head turned to Alfred, who was observing quietly, eagerness and curiosity in his blue hues.

"So, this is the new state?" She asked, her tone basically deadpan. Though, she didn't need any confirmation, this girl was just restating the obvious. Either way, there was a small murmur to answer the question. "I see," she muttered, and there was a small bit of either sadness or awe in her tone, though he couldn't tell from how hushed it was.

It was obvious that she wasn't the leader now. Rather, that she was a pariah, hated, but seemed to still have a need to be there. "Ahm Kenny." he drawled, a southern accent very thick and seemed almost incomprehensible in his voice. But because of this accent being normal to all the others now, he was perfectly understandable. "The state of Kentucky," he added, green orbs seeming to bore into hers, the sky hues seeming to challenge him.

With brunette colored locks that always seemed to be disheveled to the left, although only slightly, he had a steady aura of confidence seeming to bleed from him. Adding his ivy hues and slightly tanned skin, he was actually pretty adorable for a child.

"introduce" James started, only to be cut off by a question.

In a moment of utter ignorance, he spoke once more. "Also, why are you so short?"

She looked like she was going to implode from rage, face flushed a cherry red. "Don't. Call. Me. **SHORT**!" She screamed, lunging at him, knowing that the she would be restrained.

"Dad, some shit is hitting the fan here!"

* * *

The next thing he knew, Kenny was being pulled into another room by a strong force, upon realization that it was Isabellia, he raised an eyebrow, surprised, but didn't struggle. As soon as the blond girl pulled him into a room, locked it, and put her back to the door, she then began to speak. "Sorry about that."

"Who WAS she?" Kenny asked, awestruck as there was a loud crashing noise and several curses that made it sound like she could set herself on fire.

"Well... that's Salem. She's the state of Massachusetts, and as she demonstrated on you earlier, she doesn't like being called short," she murmured, looking down.

"Get the-"

"What about-"

"I don't know!" The voices were of James and Seth, some others mingled in, either trying to hide or subdue the enraged beast of the state of Massachusetts.

"BURN IN HELL, FUCKASSES!" Salem screamed, barely even sounding remotely like a young girl. Actually, she sounded like a young adult with a deep voice, though her regular speaking tone was moderate pitched.

"If she doesn't like being called short, why is she flipping her shit? Ah don't understand."

Isabellia sighed, taking a deep breath. She knew that explaining everything about her 'sister' may or may not get her killed. If she told, that is.


	3. Chapter 3

Salem groaned quietly, stretching out her wrists and arms as she walked to her room. "Kept me handcuffed for a damn long time. Five hours, I think," she muttered, a thick Bostonian accent lacing her words. "We got a bunch of new states today, I guess that's a good thing," she added, opening her door quietly in the darkness. The other states had been asleep for a good long time, the new states, Kenny and Kevin (the state of Tennessee) were quiet, because Salem couldn't be sure if they were sleeping or not.

"I'm not sure about Kentucky though. He has guts, **THAT'S** for sure." Her face went into an expression of remorse, a type of sadness only states, countries, or capitals could truly feel. It all seemed to be completely normal to her now, pain. Since that's really what Salem had grown up with. Suffering and misery were perfectly normal words for the other states, along with her. Sure, everyone else had recovered from their mental scars fine, but it wasn't possible for her to get over it. Or so she felt.

"But that is what gets 'cha hurt, hell, that's what gets ya KILLED. You aren't doing your state any good if you're as dead as a corpse," she mused, moving her long bangs away from her eyes with one hand. "But then again, the others don't really know how many times I've died, now have they?" She asked to a small tabby cat that was rubbing up against her lower leg. It mewed quietly, looking up at the red-head with big, Kelly green eyes. Its brown fur with darker colored stripes made the eyes stand out, along with the white underbelly of the feline.

Salem gave a small smile, scooping the cat up for a moment, giving him several gentle pets, and placing the animal down on the floor yet again, where it scurried away. "Run little kitty, run away before the anger of my brother and Virgin get 'cha!" She joked quietly, giving a small and weak chuckle.

In her thoughts, she heard her own voice, scolding her. _You know that if you stopped struggling when Seth and Virginia picked you up, this wouldn't have happened. There was no need for you to break their wrists._ A somewhat bitter smirk crossed her lips as she changed into her clothes for sleeping and laid her body down on her small bed. Her handiwork was something she was proud of, but she really was annoyed that she hadn't been able to break their arms instead.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she turned over on her side, burying her face in her pillow. There was a small, sudden urge lurking in the back of her mind, but now it was all rushing out, water from a destroyed dam. Her short and thin legs curled up to her chest, body now in a fetal position as she grimaced.

_**No. **__This is the longest you haven't done it. Three weeks, you haven't cut for about a month. If you give yourself a new scar, it's all going to go downhill. You'll have to start faking again. And you know what happens when you fake and hide, Salem. Don't you fucking dare, dammit._

Blinking back angry tears, she bit the interior of her soft and smooth cheek. There was a salty pang that crossed her taste buds as a warm liquid flowed from the inside of her cheek. Clutching onto the fabric of her pillowcase, tears began streaming out of her eyes, down her cheeks, soaking into the pillow. No sound, sobs, or words escaped from her while she cried. There never was anyway, because if she did, she knew that no one would truly care.

She sat up, swatting away the tears clustering in her eyes and on her wet cheeks, and walked over to where she kept her blade. _You're __**STRONGER **__than this. Please... just __**STOP. **_Her thoughts just kept telling her body and self-esteem what she had titled as lies. Everything kin that they told her was a lie. All she could do was smile, shake it off.

_Fake it. Lie. Act. Play the façade perfectly. Don't let them see you shatter. Let yourself bleed and cry in silence. You aren't even needed anymore. _The darkness of her hellish like thoughts continued to chant as she pulled out her sharper blade. Her other one, that she usually had used, was dull. Silently, Salem made a mental note to sharpen it later.

"I-I've always been faking it. It's never been real, nothing of it has. I can't even DIE from it, so why am I crying?" A forced, cracked smile was quirked upon her lips, tears parading down her cheeks wildly, as if they had no end and were infinite.

With a quick movement, sharp metal connected with her wrist. Her blue hues stared down at the cut, blood droplets starting to collect. Silently, her chest began heaving with sobs as she continued. More and more cuts and scratches started to lace her pale skin, a perfect distance apart. Some without blood, some with, but either way, her tears fell, some becoming stained red as the saltiness landed on the crimson liquid.

But what she didn't know was that she had left her door slightly ajar, and there was a pair of wide ivy green eyes watching the entire scene, from right when the blade had been tugged out of its hiding place.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so this is a disclaimer. KENNY IS NOT MY CHARACTER. I wish he was, but he doesn't belong to me. I've been given permission to use the character by an Admin who I'm friends with on Instagram, because she runs a roleplaying account. **

**Salem, Isabellia, Seth, and a lot of the other state characters are mine.**

**Virginia and some other characters she and I worked together to make, since we roleplay together a lot.**

**Not kidding, we LITERALLY have a pairing name for Salem and Kenny. It's SalKen and over the past like seven weeks, the pair of us have totally become addicted to the pair of them.**

**When I asked her, she got really excited. So I hope she likes this fanfiction and how I'm portraying Kenny. Because it's kind of hard.**

**REVIEWS WOULD BE NICE. I USE YOUR FLAMES TO ROAST MARSHMALLOWS.**


	4. Chapter 4

Kenny's eyes widened, seeing the metallic glint in the near blackness, and could see her already bleeding pallid skin. He inhaled sharply, quietly, and retreated back to his room, blinking slowly. He had been lead by the halls by the sound of sobbing, and found Salem, and his stomach still hadn't made its way back from his feet.

That had to be a dream, right? Salem seemed so self-assured and confident. So why was she doing... well, whatever strange thing she could be doing with that old English blade of hers in the middle of the night? He didn't have an answer, not one right now, anyways.

All the Kentuckian had was more questions if anything. Had she seen him? Why was she crying? How long had she been doing this? Was it her first time, or was it all just habit to her now? Did the other states know? Was that why they all stayed away from the Bay Stater? Or was it... what Isabellia had told him earlier?

A small, barely audible sigh escaped the child, and he laid down on his back under the blankets and sheets, emerald orbs transfixed on the ceiling above for a moment, before his eyes drew shut like curtains. His slightly tanned but freckled face slid into a calmer, more surreal expression as he started dozing off, dreams meeting him almost automatically.

But that wasn't nessesarily a good thing.

Now, children often have dreams that are irrational, perposterious, impossible seeming, but the terrors that greet a child inside of their mind are often real or symbolic. Being eaten by a dragon or another fictitious creature often meant that as adults or adolesents, these children would grow to fear being eaten alive by their own demons. And this is just one example. While dreams, showed signs of symbolism as well. Flight inside of a dream would mean that this child or person would merely want a bit of success or glee inside of their lives. And that was all that was needed to be known about dreams, really.

Although, Kenny's dreams showed little to no forms of symbolism, they were extremely real and vivid, and very, very, twisted on some nights.

And it was looking like tonight was one of those hellish nights.


	5. Chapter 5

They had fought a lot more now, Kenny and Salem. Except, it was now verbal, instead of the two going for each other's throats. Imitating each other's accents, poking fun at the things that they both knew irked one another, jabbing jeers and insults, honestly, Kenny and Salem were becoming more like an old married couple than two children who constantly bickered.

James had to learn to make sure he didn't attempt to strangle Salem because of mere annoyance in itself. This just resulted in forcing the pair outside when they argued. Thankfully, it couldn't be heard... that much. Well, it was a lot better of a solution than handcuffing the state of Massachusetts to a bed frame.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Salem could always calm him down with her mere presence, an aura that just radiated clarity. Sometimes, after a particularly bad dream or a panic attack, he'd crawl into her bed, crying into her back, chest, or shoulder, it depended on the situation, thinking the latter was asleep. But, unknown to him, Salem would be wide awake, wanting to help but not wanting to be seen as a someone who cared. Whenever she cared, she would be left alone to die. She never wanted that again. But eventually, Kenny would stop crying, composed enough to doze off once more.

* * *

Either way, this didn't stop them from finding opportunities to irk each other at every turn. _"You're an idiot!"_ Salem had screamed during one particularly bad argument that had occured earlier in the day.

_"You're one ta talk, Massey! All you are is a selfish little-" _He had wanted to continue, but Salem had slapped him, and it had hurt him harder than any other blow that she had given him. Well, that's what it felt like. Maybe it was the fact that they had finally started to form a sideways manner of trust and possibly a friendship, but either way, the blow had stung.

_"You're a coward! That's what I know. I know you're scared of me, I know it! Everyone's scared of me, and that's because I CAN KILL ALL OF YOU," _she had retorted, the ends of her hair setting ablaze, objects around them levitating. Was she... a witch?

Kenny wasn't sure if he should be awestruck, frightened, or both. Luckily, the two had been alone outdoors because no one else had wanted to listen to their constant shouting. Green orbs widened, and they tried to meet with flaming and enraged, almost animal-like, blue ones. _"S-Sa-"_

_ "JUST STOP TALKING TO ME." _After that, Salem had run off, and it had sounded like she was crying. But had she really been? She never seemed to care, show any other emotion excepting anger or no emotion at all.

Guilt poured into his chest. Had he done that to her? She hadn't ever reacted like that before; but they fought a lot in that way, so wasn't it normal by now? Maybe not. The brunette sighed, closing his eyes. "Why are girls so confusing?" He mumbled, turning over onto his side, falling asleep.

* * *

"He's an ass," she grumbled, before she too dozed off. Well, he had made the female cry, she didn't want to admit it or show it. Ever. It wouldn't end well, right? That's at least what she thought.

He came into her bed that night, too. As he had been for the last few days, with either severe attacks or nightmares. His footsteps were hesitant at the doorway, that's what she knew she could hear well, even with the American Revolution taking a bit of her hearing away. _Children should never fight in wars, all we merely are is toy soldiers. But all children have wars with themselves, so maybe we all are. _It was a thought that often came to her when remembering that terrible war that caused them to break free, a war she and her doppelgänger, Austin, had to fight in when they were merely children themselves. But something else had triggered it as of late, his crying. Why was it that?

Whatever, it wasn't important anyways, right? Collaboration would never truly work for them. Or that's what she thought.

But the next morning Salem had been proven very wrong. Because the two of them woke up handcuffed together, curtosey of Isabellia.


End file.
